


Whispers in the Forest

by Nezanie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Minor appearances: Lin, ferdie, mythology au with some local myths added to shakespeares fairy queen story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26929525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nezanie/pseuds/Nezanie
Summary: The Fae queen Dorothea is the guardian of the fae forest and a force to be reckoned with. She is content to be the sole protector of the Tir Tairngire but the elder folk deem the need to give the title of Oberon, King of the forest a must. No candidate come to mind though Lindhart, her personal councilor and friend remind her of an old crush she had in her youth. Wherever could Petra be nowadays?
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Whispers in the Forest

**Author's Note:**

> a Doropetra short story I wrote as a draft for the doropetra zine, i felt (along with the lovely mods of the zine) that leaving it at 2000 words and cut short would be a pity so I will be working on the Long version of this fic. However, i thought it would be nice to let everybody see the original, shorter format as a sort of Before and After treat. Hopefully, I can finish this up before the end of the year! The second chapter will be the longer version if everything goes well.  
> Oops forgot to post it here, my apologies.

The clopping sound of an incoming raging stampede had never been a pleasant sound to pretend to wake up to for Lindhardt. He clicked his tongue, peeking from half open eyes and immediately shut them upon the booming sound of Ferdinand’s voice as he came trotting down the stairs to the library the owlman was in charge of.

“Are you awake Lindhart?!” the booming voice of the Fae Queen’s councillor and captain of the guard would’ve awoken even the laziest of sloths. The heaving centaur hastily clapped a hand on the wooden walls of the Library of Faefolk with alarm in his eyes.

“I am now that our dear rooster Ferdinand decided to squawk and scare away the last remnants of rest I should’ve been enjoying.” Lindhart craned his neck to glare down from his perch above the shelves of books. The hollow tree was rendered spacious through magic and catered to his every need. That was the way the fae lived in Tir tairngire under the rule of the Fae Queen, Titania.

“I am a nocturnal creature. A proud Gufu” He extended one wing, the colour of freshly sprouting leaves of spring, dramatically pointing to the windows that allowed the sun’s rays to flourish inside. “The library is closed.”

Ferdinand stamped a foot, adjusted his vest with an air of important, “I’m looking for our Lad-”

“She is not here. Now leave before I decide to use my screech and be done with you! Always fancied a imposing statue to guard my research.” he snapped his beak for emphasis, his feathers bristling, puffing up to make him seem twice his size when in the norm he was already as big as the centaur and even a smudge taller.

“Very well, I can see Lady Dorothea isn’t hiding here with my own eyes.” he grumbled, not particularly keen on spending an afternoon among the books as a statue guarding the entry of the local library. “Good day to you!” He grumbled looking rather queasily at the staircase, he didn’t stop muttering all the way down the spiraling steps leading to the streets of their hidden realm.

“This is the last time I’m covering for you! It’s so exhausting…” he lowered his line of sight under his tucked wing from which the Fae Queen herself sheepishly raising the giant feathered plum above her head. 

The fourth of her bloodline to inherit the title of Titania, goddess of the land of Promises and Fae Queen, Dorothea was prone to recklessly venture out of the safety of her palace to find solace in the company of her people. Unlike her mother - though frail in body had been a woman of wit and a tongue that could give a lashing - Dorothea lacked the confidence to challenge the sages, wondering if she could protect the neighbours of Tir Tairngire properly with a gentle heart. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just that the whispers of the castle walls, they have been a little grating.” she murmurs slipping out from the warmth of the soft plumage. “The sages have been relentless lately, they want to marry me off just like that now!”

Linhardt rolled his eyes, he wasn’t particularly fond of the sages. “Is this about the last council meeting with the Tuatha de Danann, I heard Byleth had a slip of the tongue.”

“They weren’t wrong, I lack my mother’s control, I’m _emotional_.” she sighed, pressing a hand onto the bridge of her nose. Her tattoos, a series of blossoms of greenery and flora adorning her arms, seemed to rustle like a soft summer breeze passing through meadow in full bloom. The rest were hidden under her modest garments, she must have wanted to blend in with the populace.

“Byleth is blunt, surely they just wanted to cheer you up,” Linhardt correctly assumed the sages had misinterpreted the Goddess of Flames words on purpose. “The sages are obsessed with finding you your ‘Oberon’, and perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a trusted love or two to lean onto.”

“Surely you jest?” she scoffed, waving a hand in his face. She sat by his side with a huff.

Linhardt rustled his feathers, jumping off the perch and gliding towards the ground floor. “Druids are old fashioned, they just want to follow tradition. I don’t think you need to do it. Having allies in court on the other hand? That’s my advice for you, Lady Dorothea.”

“You’re serious if you’re calling me with my title,” she mused, even the water nymphs, sprightly and free, had not taken to calling her by name. Lindhardt was never one to follow tradition. “I’d just rather give my hand to someone who adores the forest and the neighbours living in it as much as I do.”

“You could stand to think about your own happiness,” he ignored her laughter of disdain. “Like the grandchild of Annwn that you used to play with years ago, isn’t she back from her quest to take over the Wild Hunt?”

“Petra?” Dorothea’s eyes twinkled to life at the mere mention of the girl, nostalgic itch tickling her insides and made her squirm in her seat, “Haven’t seen her since the markings on my arms reached my chest…”

Dorothea stood up all of a sudden, jumping off the ledge, gusts of winds cushioned her landing and her bare feet tapped, “Call Ferdinand, there’s a spook by the Manuela’s Lake, the water nymphs might be in danger.”

She didn’t wait to acknowledge Lindhardt’s bow. Running off to the elder tree by the square, the fastest way to travel was through the magic highway connected through the roots of the giant trees of Tir Tairngire which extended throughout the realm of the Fae. Dorothea was in the Lady of the Lake’s turf in an instant.

A gasp escaped her as she blurted, “Where is everyone? Manuela? And the lake?”

A barren wasteland lay before here, the lake dried up to an age that should not come before the end of time. If it remained like so the rivers would soon follow and as blood leaves the veins of mortal so would the vitality of the forest and her home.

“A well?” Dorothea remarked marching in slow rhythmic steps to the middle of the lake. A singular stone structure had been erected where it should not have been. No sign of life beyond a few fish slapping in puddles in distress. “It hasn’t been that long, I may still be in time.”

Before she could take another step, she felt a bug whiz past her ear and she halted when an arrow struck the ground. Dorothea spun around conjuring her counter in the form of three lances of water spinning menacingly, water roaring in wait to plunge in their enemy. “Who goes there!”

“Forgive me, my lady!” a repentant voice echoed around her. A ripple in the air in front of her gave form to a purplish smoke which took the form of a knight and two horned black hounds. They yipped happily and bowed at her presence. “You must not take another step, the creature hiding in the well is in wait.”

‘A Wild hunt soldier? What are they doing here?’

Dorothea wondered if Petra was close by for a moment. Alas, she had to tend to her people, it was no time for nostalgia and perhaps she could ask this knight later.

“And what do you suggest? I leave the nymphs and my teacher in it’s clutches,” she crossed her arms waiting for a response.

The stranger laughed nervously, pulling at the beautifully braided dark her and pressing a hand against their mask, “Do you not recognize me Dorothea?”

Dorothea fidgeted in place, tilting her head, “Hmm? Should I…?”

The mask was tossed away and in the same instant Dorothea’s breath hitched at the sight of the tattoo under the woman’s eyes. For the knight was a woman, and the new goddess of the Wild Hunt as the mark established her having passed the trail.

“Petra? Oh Petra! It is you!” the Fae Queen, quite undignified, launched herself in the strong, muscular arms of her friend who held her tightly.

“I would welcome you with a feast if circumstances permitted however we seem to be in a bit of a spot right now,” she sighed, breathing in the scent of dew drops and incense. 

“My condolences to your loss, I apologize I could attend the late queen’s farewell and for my...aggressive entrance. Let’s deal with this spook and make haste, I wish to catch up with your Ladyship!” Petra seemed stiff in her greeting, distance but Dorothea nodded in approval.

Before she could ask, Petra waved her hand and her two bearish companions galloped to either side of the well. 

She made an off hand comment, “It might be an engulfer.”

“Or a well ghoul.” Dorothea took to Petra’s stride walking by her side to the well. Her fingers itched with magic. Petra was tense, the muscle of her jaw tightly clamped. “I can feel a particularly strong magic inside.”

“Yes, someone is fending it off but it's hungry, it’ll make it more aggressive and…” Petra placed a hand on the cold edge of the stone well. “I can lock onto it with my magic, open a way for you to push it out here away from its victims. Then we can be rid of it.”

Dorothea blinked in surprise and gave a quick curt nod, Petra smiled at her antics. Her face had flushed at being caught staring at the nape of her childhood friend when her mind had wandered to the time of their youth. It would have been more correct to call petra her childhood sweetheart. ‘Lindhardt word’s keep coming back to taunt me, and news not the time!”

Pressing a palm on top of Petra’s, the Fae Queen concentrated on the flow of magic emitted by the leader of the Wild Hunt. As the well ghoul trapped the water nymphs in a dimension it created, they used the same path to pull it back out like a fish on the hook. Petra’s free hand tapped the top of hers and the signal was enough for Dorothea to unleash her spell.

The well erupted and with a screech the water threw the great serpent into the air. It fell a short way behind them with a terrible crackle of the lake bed beneath it’s heavy body. It hissed indignantly, towering over them and snapping its fangs ferociously. Petra made to unsheathe her blade however Dorothea took two steps towards the spook, an angry look on her face.

“Begone foul creature,” she growled, snapping her fingers. In the blink of an eye, the well ghoul writhed, ice forming on it’s scales, crackling until it encased the monster completely. Petra was left to stare dumbfounded at the scene, letting her blade slide back to it’s resting place with no foe to bite into.

Manuela latched onto Dorothea in a bear hug the moment they had restored the lake to its former glory. It would have been the perfect happy ending had Petra not sauntered like a drunken man to a tree a few ways off. 

“I have a confession,” Petra mumbled when she join her, she had been playing with her braid awkwardly leaning into a tree, “I heard the title of Oberon was to be bestowed, I had just returned from claiming my title as leader of the Wild Hunt and with a ego I thought I could ...stop others from taking the title. I merely wanted to be of use to you! I am sorry!”

Petra raised her eyes and stifled a chuckle, she pressed a finger against Dorothea’s cheek, “Your face is so red.” 

“Of course it is, I…! You dummy! I thought you’d dislike me if I relied so heavily on you!” she took the hand in hers, “A Fae Queen that's bested by a little well ghoul! Ha!”

“Never! Dorothea it’s not wrong to get a little help! Your people adore you, I could see it as I walked through Tir Tairngire!” Petra grabbed her shoulders bringing her in for a hug, “I left all those years ago for the experience and strength needed to be worthy to ask your hand and companionship.”

Dorothea laughed into her neck, and said in wonder. “Really?”

“Yes, I was afraid I’d lose my chance to be with you. I even told myself, lied, that you didn’t have to pick me.” she replied fervently, squeezing her harder. 

Dorothea bit into her lip, nuzzling into Petra, in her arms she felt warm, safe and wonderful. Before she could lose the courage, she cupped Petra’s cheek and pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips. “You’re so sweet Petra, I’m so happy we feel the same.”

“We do?”

A giggle escaped her lips and she kissed her tenderly to reassure her. Petra didn’t want the title of Oberon, she wasn’t her prize to win, Dorothea was her love to cherish, and it was obvious from the intensity of her gaze. Firm and Honest she didn’t look away from the Fae Queen’s stare until she replied. “We do, silly.”

“I am yours forever more.” Petra whispered touching their foreheads together.

The devilish smirk Dorothea gave her made her shiver to the core, “I sincerely hope you’re prepared for a passionate queen’s courting, dear.”


End file.
